


Dear Officer Grayson

by JayDick_Hell



Series: JayDick Fic Event [7]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: And is also secretly a poetry nerd, Cop!Dick, Criminal!Jason, Jason lowkey wants to dom Dick, M/M, Secret Admirer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-23 18:00:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13793103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayDick_Hell/pseuds/JayDick_Hell
Summary: Someone has been leaving love letters on Dick's desk for months now. They're really quite captivating and Dick thinks he might have developed some feelings for his secret admirer. Then he gets a note from them claiming they have important information for the cop. Dick's pretty sure meeting up is a bad idea but he can't let this opportunity pass. The safety of Gotham's citizens is his top priority so any intel that might help that cause is invaluable.And maybe he's just alittleinterested in seeing who his admirer really is.





	Dear Officer Grayson

**Author's Note:**

  * For [buzzalita97](https://archiveofourown.org/users/buzzalita97/gifts).



> #7 of the JayDick-Hell Fic Event!
> 
> I give up on a word limit. I just...give up.
> 
> Catch me on Tumblr: [JayDick-Hell](https://jaydick-hell.tumblr.com/)

Being a cop was tough. Being a cop in Gotham City? Talk about a _nightmare._ You had to worry about chemical attacks, murderous crocodile-people, angry plant ladies, and exploding penguins on any given day of the week. And that was just the basics of this shitstorm of a city. Not only were the criminals some next level crazy but your fellow officers were more than likely on the take. Dick was willing to bet that there were three good cops in this whole damn city and that's including himself. He couldn't trust his own partner to have his back when out on the streets.

The more criminals Dick took down, the more the spotlight fell on him. Ordinarily, the ex-circus performer loved being the center of attention. When that attention came from mob bosses and crooked cops, however, he wasn't so keen on it. Whenever Dick walked into the precinct, silence would overtake the room. He knew the way the others side-eyed him like they were waiting for the moment he's killed. The number of rats he had locked up was startling. The GCPD was beginning to look pretty empty as of late thanks to him. Dick couldn't help but feel the shadow of a noose hanging over him as the days passed by. That's okay. He's willing to take the fallout if it meant doing _something_ to make this city safer for its citizens.

One strange occurrence that Dick just couldn't explain was the notes. Every couple of days, a note would be sitting on his desk just waiting to be read. There was never a return address on the unsealed envelope. The paper was the sort anyone could get their hands on. There were no identifying markers about the thing. It'd be more concerning if the notes weren't _love letters._ There's no other way to describe the romantic poems and prose. They often spoke of Dick's beauty and his personality. Of how the anonymous writer admired him. They were flattering and he's come to look forward to seeing the next envelope with neat script on it waiting for him.

The first note was a surprise. He thought someone in the precinct was fucking with him. When the letters kept coming and no one gave off any clues to knowing what the letters were, he had to come up with another theory. Someone was getting letters delivered to him yet nobody knew where they came from. It was highly suspicious. But, they were harmless as of now. They weren't creepy or intrusive. Nothing to hint at a stalker. Just someone with a crush who was damn good with their words. Most letters were tame, but some of the more risque notes certainly had his pulse rising and cheeks flushing. That was pretty impressive, in his opinion. He had _no idea_ who was sending these or what they looked like, but the mental images they painted were provocative. It made him wonder if they were an author of some form.

Walking toward his desk, he caught sight of another note. It was the same plain white envelope with the same careful handwriting. ' _To Officer Grayson'_. He grabbed the letter with a straight face, though he was internally pleased to see it. As usual, he carefully looked over the envelope for any indicators of who wrote it or where it may have come from. Unsurprisingly, there was nothing. He couldn't help but wonder why the person was so devoted to remaining a mystery and if he'd ever meet them. He unfolded the paper, scanning it quickly but seeing nothing out of the ordinary. Then, he read the letter. A sense of unease filled him as he took in the writing.

_Dear Officer Grayson,_

_Sorry this isn't more romantic but I have some rather sensitive information you might find useful. I can't write more in case someone dirty gets their hands on this letter. If you're interested, go to the Bird's Cage at nine tonight. I'd advise you not to bring any other cop as they can't be trusted._

Dick carefully re-read the letter in silence. A passing officer made a snide comment about 'another love letter', prompting Dick to fold the note and tuck it into his pocket with a cheeky smile. Meanwhile, his mind raced a million miles an hour. His instincts told him not to go alone, it could very well be a trap. He mentally reviewed the previous letters for any signs that the writer was unstable or if there were any warning signs of possible aggression. Nothing _seemed_ off. Still, was he willing to risk that?

At the same time, the author had a point. The other officers were dirtier than the alleys in the Bowery District. On the off-chance that this person had some actual useful information, the other cop could be a danger to have there. Gordon was up to his eyes in work, so Dick didn't want to pile more stuff on the hard-working commissioner. Bullock would probably laugh Dick off once he brings up his secret admirer. There was also the matter of the location. The Bird's Cage was a very public and lively night club. If they were interested in attacking Dick, surely they'd choose a more remote location. Perhaps they strategically chose this spot to show they had no ill-intentions.

He sighed heavily as he started to overthink things. This was his problem. He _always_ overthought everything. Either that, or he decided to jump without a net and deal with the situation as he fell. Since he was thinking himself in circles, he decided to move to the other extreme and just go for it. He'll arm himself, keep his senses open, and alert Tim of his actions just in case things go south. They'll set it up so Tim texts him at eleven as a check-in and Dick would respond. If he didn't or answered incorrectly, then his brother will know something's wrong. Now it was just a matter of waiting for nine o'clock.

Time flew as he worked on his cases and before he knew it, his shift was over. Unease curled in his gut as nine drew near. There was a moments debate on whether he should change or go in his uniform. Finally, Dick decided it'd be better to go in civilian attire if only for the other person's safety. Being seen talking to a cop can easily get someone killed in this city. That'd make concealing a weapon more difficult, but he had faith in his hand-to-hand skills. Should a fight occur, he was relatively certain he'd be able to handle it.

With everything set and Tim keeping an eye on the clock, Dick left for the nightclub. One thing he didn't take into account before leaving was the line. It was a long wait to get in. Dick would _definitely_ be late at this rate. He regretted not wearing his uniform right now. Though, the badge hidden under his shirt _might_ get him in. He grumbled as he walked toward the club, ready to pull rank to gain entrance. That seemed to be entirely unnecessary, however. Once he got within sight of the bouncer, he was waved forward. Questions immediately rose in his brain.

He was informed that _'He's waiting up top for you'_ and then given entrance. A hand signal from the large man had another person stepping up to him to guide Dick to his informant. That sense of wrongness only grew in intensity. This was definitely _not_ a small-time person if they had people running all over the place for him. The possibilities springing up were increasingly discomforting. Finally, he was brought to a door that led to a second-floor VIP room. Yeah, this was definitely going to be bad for him. Strangely enough, nobody searched him for weapons. Perhaps they thought he was no threat?

Bracing himself for whoever was at the top, Dick made his way up the stairs silently. The door behind him closed and an eerie sort of silence took over. So, this place was heavily soundproofed too. This was getting worse by the second. When he reached the top of the stairs he paused and looked around suspiciously. There, lounging on one of the couches facing the large two-way window was a handsome young man. He was brawny in build but not overly so with black hair and piercing eyes. Dick instantly recognized him with a degree of dread. The trademark brown leather jacket and under armor did nothing to hide the man's identity. It was Red Hood.

The realization that the _fucking Red Hood_ has been sending him _love letters_ for months - that Dick had actually started feeling _affection_ for him - washed over him like a bucket of ice water. There was the desire to laugh hysterically for a moment but his horror outweighed that. Dick's been trying to take down the criminal since they crossed paths one fateful bust. Their fight had been intense and Dick even managed to get him into cuffs and into the back of a cruiser. But, lo and behold, Hood magically escaped the car taking him to the precinct before it ever reached the station. The cops assigned to the car claim they were assaulted by Hood's forces who then released the mobster. That might have held some water if they car wasn't in pristine condition _and_ the dashcam hadn't been turned off. Dick was fuming for weeks.

Red Hood was wearing the most aggravating smirk while looking him up and down. Without a word, Dick immediately turned around and began to walk back down the stairs with all intentions of permanently repressing this entire event. He didn't get more than three steps down before Hood was up from his seat with a loud _'Wait!'_ Dick hesitated for a moment before taking another step. This was definitely not worth the oncoming headache.

* * *

 

Jason let out a low, frustrated sound. He expected the cop to be shocked and displeased with his identity. He _didn't_ expect the blank look and immediate move to leave. Really, he couldn't blame Grayson. He's one of the only honest people in this whole city and he just found out that his secret admirer who's been serenading him for months was a fucking mob boss. At least he hasn't tried to punch Jason. _Yet._ Still, he really did have some information to pass along, if only because it'd benefit Jason too. And, okay, _maybe_ he was trying to rack up some brownie points with the man. Can anyone fault him? Dick looked like a supermodel _and_ he was an acrobat. That's like hitting the jackpot right there. Getting choked out by the man's thighs had a way of changing Jason's perspective on things. Things like how he really wanted to get those thighs around him again but for entirely different reasons than fighting.

"As much as I _love_ watching you leave, Officer Grayson, I really do have intel for you."

Dick closed his eyes and sighed in aggravation.

"Give me a good reason to trust what you have to say."

He turned only just enough to keep the mobster in his sight. The cop wasn't so arrogant as to keep his back to the dangerous man the entire time. Hood just ran a hand through his hair as he gave a half-shrug.

"You want the truth? You'd be doing me a favor taking out these assholes. They're cutting in on my territory and it's getting on my nerves."

 _'Well, points for honesty, I guess.'_ Dick turned fully around, arms crossed and expression flat, just to really drive in how unimpressed he was with that response. The cheeky look he was getting had him rolling his eyes.

"And what makes you think I want to do _any_ favors for you?"

Jason just barked out a short laugh.

"Oh, I know you don't _want_ to but I bet you will."

Dick narrowed his eyes dangerously. When he spoke, it was almost a hiss.

"You don't know me at all, Hood."

Hood smiled wide like Dick just gave him exactly what he wanted. That wasn't very reassuring, really. Jason's voice was almost taunting in its confidence when he responded.

"I know you better than you think, Grayson. You might be one of the only honest cops on the force but you're also incredibly protective of the citizens of Gotham and willing to cut corners if it keeps them safe. I'm willing to bet you wouldn't want a gang like Black Mask's to get their hands on a shipment of assault weapons and explosives."

For a moment, Dick stood frozen. Red Hood definitely knew him better than he was hoping. What's more, he was _right._ There was no way he wanted Black Mask's people to get their hands on those weapons. It'd spell catastrophe for the city. Roman was one of the more sadistic gangsters in the city and that was saying something. Dick frowned like he just swallowed something particularly bitter.

"Keep talking."

Again, Hood smiled in a way that was a little too happy for Dick's tastes. Then, the criminal turned and sat at the corner of the couch, one leg sprawled across the cushions and his arms thrown lax over the arm and back. He turned his attention back to the cop and cocked his head deviously.

"Take a seat first."

The way he waved a hand at his lap made it all too clear where exactly that seat was supposed to be. Again, Dick just glared at him with rising anger. The stubborn jut of his chin and cock of his hip was way too enticing to the mobster. God, he just wanted to break that pretty little cop down until he was a writhing mess with nothing but Jason's name on his lips. Dick was so fucking defiant against everyone and everything. The draw he felt was unimaginable.

"I'm _not_ sitting on your lap."

The way his voice snapped like a whip at Jason only had him grinning wider. He can fill a whole library with the dirty thoughts and plans he has for that lush mouth. With a slight shift and an imploring look, Jason continued.

"Aww, but Officer, I'm willing to give you names, dates, and locations of these illicit activities while asking for _nothing_ but some cuddling in return. I think that's a pretty good trade."

Call him selfish all you will, Jason would admit to it wholly. One thing he's learned from the mean streets of Gotham is that you'll never get what you want by praying for it. You have to work for it and damn if he won't put in the work for this handsome man before him. It's not love, not even close, but it's _definitely_ lust. There's some affection felt for the brazenly heroic and stubborn man, true. The earnest desire to protect the citizens of Gotham - _all_ the citizens, not just the elite - was awe-inspiring. Jason liked to think he was doing the same. Just...in a more illegal manner.

There was some degree of delight to be had in watching Dick make a confident stride toward him. Jason waited patiently for the cop to sit down. A huff of pained air was drawn from his lungs when Dick sat down harder than was necessary. The smug look on his face let Jason know it was entirely intentional. _'That petty fucker.'_ Jason couldn't help but note the hunger in his thoughts as he eyed up the object of his desires. Dick would probably stop being so defiant if he knew just how erotic Jason found it. The more insolent he was, the more Jason just wanted to fuck him into submission. He wrapped his arms almost lazily around Dick - one around his lower back and the other on his lap. Dick grabbed his wrist in an iron grip before his hand could creep any higher than mid-thigh. There was a dangerous look in those bright eyes that practically had the mobster salivating.

"Your hand goes any higher and I'm going to break it."

That bone-grinding squeeze was probably supposed to be a warning but Jason couldn't help but want _more._ Though he also wasn't looking to get his wrist broken and he knew the cop wasn't bluffing. He respected Dick's words and kept his hands still. That didn't keep the filthy grin from lifting his lips, however.

"I love it when you talk dirty to me."

Another razor-sharp look was cast his way. Fuck, Jason wanted to bite those pretty lips.

"Information. _Now._ "

"Alright, pretty bird. Roman's expecting three shipments from the Russians on the fifteenth, the twenty-second, and the twenty-sixth. Y'know, you've got _beautiful_ eyes."

The feeling of the older man pressed against him was incredibly distracting. Those eyes were practically hypnotic. Jason had to resist the overwhelming urge to kiss him. Dick clenched his jaw, ready to sock the man in the face if he didn't hurry up with the intel. It was humiliating enough to be sitting on his damn lap. He needn't drag out the humiliation longer than absolutely necessary.

"That's not pertinent information."

"It is to me."

The response had been immediate, a thoughtless admission. Jason would have felt a little embarrassed if it wasn't for the fact that Dick was now moving to leave. Quickly, words spilled from his lips in an effort to keep the man around just a while longer.

"Two a.m. at the Cape Carmine docks for each shipment."

Almost reluctantly, Dick halted his escape. He was still perched on the mobster's lap, back stiff as a board and legs ready to run. It was clear Hood wanted him to stick around with the desperate way he responded, not to mention the way his hold tightened minutely. It wasn't restraining but more like a subconscious action - a wordless request to stay. Dick's tone was crisp as he spoke.

"Anything else?"

He was still trying to work out what the hell Hood was trying to get from him. All those notes, had they been to mess with the cop? It was clear Dick wouldn't go on the payroll for the mobster, so was this a way of trying to manipulate him? Was he honest in his desires? It certainly seemed it. Then again, this was Gotham. There was no end to the lengths people will go to harm another. Dick didn't want to be just another name on that endless list.

"Yeah, one more thing."

Jason shifted, drawing himself a little straighter and closer to the cop. His chest was pressed softly against Dick, not overbearing in the closeness but still hot between the two. He whispered softly, eyes never straying from the Adonis-like face to gauge his reaction.

_"Teach me to sin—In love's forbidden ways, For you can make all passion pure; The magic lure of your sweet eyes. Each shape of sin makes virtue praise."_

A hand made its way to rest over Dick's heart. His pulse jumped slightly as Jason recited the poem, drawing a small, victorious smile from the criminal. So maybe Dick _was_ attracted. He pressed on with the soft words before Dick decided he's really had enough and takes his leave.

_"Teach me to sin—Enslave me to your wanton charms, crush me in your velvet arms. And make me, make me love you."_

Dick _really_ hated how enticing Hood's voice was when whispering in that husky tone; especially when it was to serenade him. It was also frustrating that the criminal was so damn attractive. What's worse is that Dick already developed a little bit of care for his secret admirer before the reveal of his identity. Hearing the poem recited to him in person made him burn inside and conflicting emotions arose. The tickle of hot breath against his neck sent shivers down his spine.

_"Make me fire your blood with new_ _desire. And make me kiss you—lip and limb till sense reel and pulses swim. Aye, even if you hate me, teach me to sin."_

When Hood's voice tapered off into silence, Dick almost feared to look. Slowly, he turned his head to stare at the criminal he's been hunting for months. The closeness between them was almost suffocating now. There was an inferno blazing in Jason's eyes, burning bright for the honest man on his lap. For once, Dick didn't know what to say. He's always been the one to have a quip ready for every situation. But nothing came to mind when Hood looked like he wanted to positively _devour_ him. Nothing for the fact that Dick felt like he might _like_ that. That didn't answer the questions brewing in his head or the doubts yelling in the depths of his mind.

"What do you want from me?"

His question drew a short, almost frustrated laugh from the mobster. The skeptical way Dick was eyeing him up left Jason a little harried. The slight dusting of pink on those golden cheeks, however, gave him a little hope. He'd take it. A wolfish grin was sent the cop's direction.

"I think the notes have been plenty self-explanatory, Officer."

There was a draw of silence, like they were both waiting for the other to make a move. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. Then, Dick let his face fall back into the cool and professional mask he used when dealing with those he arrested. He rose up, breaking Jason's hold on him and leaving the mobster cold on the couch. He looked at him for a moment, just to speak.

"Thank you for the information."

Then, he turned and strode with that same daring confidence back toward the stairs and never once looking back. Jason just watched him go, torn between satisfaction and aggravation. He let his eyes linger on the broad shoulders before trailing down to that tapering waist and enticing hips. He rewarded himself a lascivious grin as he openly admired that perfect ass and those tempting thighs. He was already planning on what to put on the next note, what might lure that righteous man to his level. What might get him to finally surrender.

"It's been my pleasure, Officer Grayson."

**Author's Note:**

> The poem recited is 'Enthralled' by Alfred Bryan. I'm a total sucker for the Cop!Dick/Criminal!Jason set up. Catch me in the pit for that universe.


End file.
